


she'll be mine from dust to dust

by quinnking



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Phil's POV, just a small little thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2467433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil remembers so clearly, every touch he has ever given Melinda and she him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she'll be mine from dust to dust

**Author's Note:**

> listen to hurricane by the fray. after the recent episode, i just had a small thing in my head.

_she's so fierce and full of fire, what's a boy to do?_

_**I** _

Phil remembers so clearly, every touch he has ever given Melinda and she him. 

He remembers in the Academy, the first time they sparred. She wound up atop him, and try as he might, he couldn't fend her off. Boy did he try. She wasn't cocky with the victory, either. She even helped him up by the end of it and sometimes he can still feel that faint first touch on his hand when he watches her spar with someone else (only sometimes, Phil rations, because it would be crazy for him to feel it all the time). 

They went out about a month later, to a restaurant. That was where he found out she hates coffee (she only ever drinks it black now that she's gotten older, now that she needs that extra fuel, but Phil won't tell anyone). He was a gentleman, his mother didn't raise him not to be, and walked her to her dorm. She touched his shoulder gently before giving him that Melinda-smile and walking through her door. 

After their first year, they went out on a real date. Dancing. There was electricity buzzing between them, he could practically smell the chemistry brewing. He walked her back to her dorm once again, like he always did. He leaned in for a kiss, on the lips, and she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. He thinks, even now, that a punch in the gut would've hurt less.

He remembers the first time they kissed vividly; the touch of her lips (so so so soft, tasting of vanilla and honey), her body molding against his as if they were truly made for each other. She kissed him first, and that's the part that he remembers most and keeps locked away in that special part of his brain - she kissed him. 

The first time they made love was just before their first mission, after their graduation. Melinda hated (still does) the term making love, but that's what he will always call it. Tender touches, kisses; soft noises, the quietly creaking bed. It wasn't romantic, but the love between them was palpable with every movement. 

After Bahrain, their love making turned to fucking. Animalistic, raw, something to help Melinda get her mind off of what happened. Phil loved her (still does, so fucking much that he can't stand it), so he was her scapegoat. He was going to be there for her, as he knew she would always be for him.

Touches were sparse after she moved to administration, they hardly saw each other. One night when they were out with Natasha and Clint, they stumbled into his apartment blindly, drunk. Kissing roughly and Melinda dominantly pushing him onto the bed, straddling his hips and riding him hard. That was the last touch he remembers before he died. 

When she came to work with him on The Bus the touches were barely there. But he can't let go of when he stitched her up. It was intimate, Melinda never let anyone (still doesn't, she'll stitch other people up but her injuries don't matter to her anymore, she can handle herself) clean her wounds, she preferred to lick them in private. They made subtle eye contact, but he could feel the heat between them. He remembers the look in her eyes, remembers how he felt when they made eye contact and when she let her walls lower for him. 

And then there's the undercover stint. It's fun to be nostalgic (clever words from his clever woman), but he prefers these touches. After all, they're both so damaged, so who better to fix each other than them? He doesn't think about his heart stuttering in his chest when he sees her in that dress, and certainly not when they're twirling around the dancefloor and her leg hitches onto his. Oh boy, does that bring back memories. He certainly doesn't think about the fact that he can hear his pulse in his ears when he sees her in nothing but lingerie, doesn't think about the fact that he wants to tear it off of her and kiss her senseless. 

He guesses she had the same thought, because a few days later she backs him against the door and kisses him, muttering that she wishes she'd done this when they were undercover.

Phil will always have his memories of touches to serve him, but he knows that they're not going to stop any time soon, now that she's beside him in his bed. His arm lazily across her stomach, drawing patterns on her arm. He prefers this to memories, anyway. Nostalgia's great and all, but he prefers to live in the present. 


End file.
